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𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐀, 𝐋𝐎𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒
ELEANOR
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My phone was glued to my fingers throughout the time of my addresses at my lectures, my eyes bored and unfocused. I could not skip a lecture either, the time passing by densely, as I had a rep to uphold. Every time a ping came to my phone, I assumed it was something to do with Masque and my heart leaping to a hundred beats per minute. I had even dismissed students earlier than usual, wanting to focus my time on this and this only. Not knowing an outcome and having it happen was a different feeling. But knowing what's going to happen and waiting for it to happen was guilt. The guilt of having done wrong and taking a toll on someone else's life. I wasn't new to it, just unaccustomed to the sheer retreat of it back into me.
'Saw the empty hall so I—woah, hey.'
I lifted my eyes from the podium to face the source of the voice. I was tired and lost so the last thing I wanted to do was to introduce and indulge in small-talk. Looking back to the laptop that was perched open in front of me, I sighed. I was not ready for this conversation even though I knew it was coming. We had to talk about what had happened and my drunken spectacle. We had to talk about a lot of things.
'What do you want, Tony?'
Tony Stark strolled in on university property like it was his own. Technically, he funded this place but that didn't mean he could crash my lectures as and when he'd liked it. He watched on, ascending the short steps to the dais and wearing a soft smile.
'Came to check up on my better half.'
I barely smiled. 'I'm good.'
Tony's warm hand slackened over my shoulder, pulling me away from the podium and into his chest. I braced a hand over his compression-sleeved arms, glancing at him with an aimless look. It was different to see him without his usual decoration of bruises, a lustre to the husk-brown in his eyes and the warmth in his smile. He looked healthy - thriving even - his facial hair trimmed back to its usual shape and his laugh lines more prominent than ever.
I felt his finger reach up to push my fringe away. 'You look tired. Classes getting harder?'
'Broad strokes and I've just,' I took in a breath, 'got too much on my brain.'
'Let me guess,' he said, a cheeky smile on his face. 'It's moi.'
'Je suis désolé, monsieur,' I played along, 'it really isn't.'
